


lost boys

by alolandugtrios



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Cuddling (sorta), Flirting, Grinding, M/M, Making Out, Sexual Tension, lip biting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 20:40:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18746716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alolandugtrios/pseuds/alolandugtrios
Summary: hold me til i'm not lonely anymore.





	lost boys

**Author's Note:**

> i got this idea from saturn's tweet about vanitas being a lil asshole and laying all over roxas in weird positions to annoy him. added some cayenne and just a pinch of melancholy and we got here. this may or may not warrant its M rating? i was just trynna be careful.

“Get comfortable.”

“I _am_.”

“Yeah, right.”

Vanitas scowls, stretching out as he lay across Roxas’ lap. The blond is annoying and Vanitas is never going to tell him that he’s right. Pisses him off more that Roxas mindlessly thumbs through his Gummiphone and isn’t even looking at him.

And so he readjusts again for the umpteenth time; Roxas quit tallying after three. Vanitas hopes this hurts, sitting upright with his legs crossed while Roxas still lays calm on his back on his bed. Just a split second, the blond glances up to find Vanitas’ back facing him, and then he’s back to his Gummiphone.

Vanitas can’t see the smug smile on Roxas’ face.

“Ven sure posts on Kingstagram a lot.” He can feel Vanitas’ eyes narrowing right now; definitely _not_ at Ven’s photos from his recent Destiny Islands venture, of course.

“Then quit looking at it and get off your damn phone.” _Pay attention to me._

“Oh, I’m not _mad_ about it. I was just saying.” Roxas delivers his words so casually, pulling an annoyed groan from the little gremlin on his lap.

Vanitas maneuvers himself again in an effort to really grind the blond’s gears. His head rests at Roxas’ feet, back against Roxas’ legs and it’s unfortunately not the most uncomfortable bed Vanitas has rested against before. His legs part, feet on either side of the blond’s torso looking to spark _any_ sort of emotion out of him be it disgust, arousal, horror — _anything_.

_Just look at me._

But Roxas isn’t as dense as Vanitas wishes him to be. Blue eyes stay fixed on the screen, body relaxed despite being under Vanitas’ weight and occasional squirms. Not even a word to be said; takes Vanitas less than a minute to furrow his brows in frustration. Time to take this up a notch.

His legs tighten and clamp at Roxas, who continues to be stoic and calm — ignoring it, ignoring _him_.

_Stop ignoring me!!_

A noise between a growl and a guttural groan rumbles in Vanitas’ throat as he moves again, Roxas’ unphased expression serving to further piss him off. For this round of Twister, he slithers up Roxas’ body, his head coming through the blond’s arms so that he can block his view of that damn phone and get right where he wants — right in his face.

“Needy,” Roxas taunts, unwilling to look at the face before him.

“Not for you.” Lies — lies to Roxas and to himself, but the lies taste so much better on his tongue than truths.

“Oh?” And like that, his Gummiphone is rested atop Vanitas’ head, blues eyes locked right back on to his prior late-night scroll through. “Gotcha.”

Vanitas unleashes a beastly snarl in fighting back his urge to plunge his nails into Roxas’ throat. He could do it, if he wanted — oh, if only he wanted.

But he’s finally earned a reaction he can see plain as day and will hear chiming in his ears on nights to come; Roxas smirks at him, chuckles at his anger. It pisses Vanitas off even more and he bears his fangs, a warning that Roxas purposely doesn’t heed.

“Kinda hot when you’re angry.”

“Is _that_ what I need to do to get your attention?”

“No,” Roxas deflects and sets aside his device — not soon enough, Vanitas thinks. “But you admit that’s what you wanted.”

Oh — _shit_. “Hell no,” Vanitas denies it, but even he can’t pull any reason out of air on this one. “Don’t flatter yourself so much when you’re not worth it.”

“ _Mmhmm_.” Blue eyes roll, nostrils flaring with the tail end of a laugh. “Because you’re on top of me like this for _no reason at all_. And you haven’t been squirming on me all evening to get my attention. You just can’t get comfortable. That’s the _only_ reason.”

“You’re really starting to piss me off.”

“Good.” Vanitas lets out another one of those low snarls that Roxas takes in like fuel, smirk growing more Cheshire. “Then what are you going to do about it?”

Now Vanitas’ lips curl from a defensive snarl to that of a hungry predator — the closest he can muster to real happiness. He can’t be happy; he’s _sick_ , that’s what it is. This sudden appetite is unfamiliar, but welcome. Its fire courses in his veins, pulsing at his sick, twisted little head and only burns hotter below his belt.

Roxas isn’t given ample time to admire that expression he’s inflicted upon Vanitas; the predator wants to _eat_. Despite their close proximity, Vanitas lunges in to claim Roxas’ lips for himself. The blond isn’t prepared for the impact, eyes widened and mind blank in the first seconds that follow their contact. Soon, his eyes close — and Vanitas learns the hard way that Roxas can put up a fight.

Roxas pulls out his guns before Vanitas gets the chance, teeth digging into his bottom lip and pulling. Pain is nothing — pain like this only _tickles_ the ebony haired boy and he feigns amusement in his laughter.

“Amateur,” he berates Roxas in a hush voice, breaking loose of the weak confines of his jaw and mirroring the same stunt Roxas had pulled — harder and with every intention of bruising.

His prey proves resilient, unfortunately. Not a sound uttered aside from a small grunt, but Vanitas thrives in feeling the way Roxas’ body tenses and twitches beneath him. His hands wander to the blond’s shoulders, and Roxas’ hands grip at Vanitas’ jaw on either side, now free of its prisoning mask. Vanitas is so used to the cold feel of metal there that the warmth and wanting of Roxas’ bare palms and fingertips ensnares him in something he dare not call happiness. Perhaps… _security_?

Is that such a thing he can feel?

Vanitas pushes the thoughts aside with the push of his tongue through the barriers of Roxas’ lips. Surprisingly, he’s allowed in, greeted by the blond’s eagerness lashing back at him. He tastes far better than any lie, truth, or in between that could ever roll of his own tongue. Salty, sweet — so much like that damn ice cream he enjoys.

Instinctually, Roxas opens his legs more, letting them bend and rise to keep Vanitas caught between, like the little devil had done to him earlier. Doesn’t deter Vanitas from sliding up Roxas’ body just a touch, making sure to grind down when he feels their hips aligning.

“Vani— mmh…”

Oh — now that’s a sound he wouldn’t mind hearing on repeat. “Roxas,” he mutters mockingly, playing with his food.

In the brief moment their lips have parted, Roxas opens his eyes. Their chests rise and fall against one another, scrambling to reclaim lost breath. Roxas’ lips buzz, start to numb and grow cold without Vanitas’ consuming kisses, but he’s far too dizzy to get right back into it just yet— not when Vanitas makes another roll of his hips like that, causing Roxas’ to respond in turn. His way he makes Roxas’ thighs tighten at Vanitas’ torso and beg for a reason to wrap around his body — it’s _infuriating_.

It’s then that Roxas decides he’s not one to need much air; his body responds better when Vanitas takes it. Lips crash back to where they once were, arms languidly draping over Vanitas’ strong shoulders and linking behind his neck.

Not much to mince words, their bodies speak. Hands wander, lips travel — and two lost boys find temporary home in one another for the rest of the night.


End file.
